Blood Bond

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Supernatural…obviously.

Chapter 14

Sam opened his eyes at the same time trying to work out why he was so cold, why his head hurt and why he was crumpled on the floor. He gasped as reality struck full force when his eyes took in the empty cabin and open door. "God no Dean."

Sam scrambled to his feet, swaying as a bout of dizziness forced him to close his eyes and brace a hand against the wall. He slowly opened his eyes, vision still a little blurred and was about to race out the door after his brother when a rational thought struck. The only way to save Dean was to kill this thing and the only way to kill it was with fire. Fuck. Sam emptied the backpack onto the table, scattering contents all over the floor as well. He grabbed a zippo, the blowtorch, a handgun and a torch before he was out the door and into the approaching dawn. The sheath lying on the ground with Deans' hunting knife missing only increased his sense of urgency.

Without hesitation Sam took off in the direction of the river, scouring the ground as he went for signs of Dean's footprints. He soon found a trail in the mud and broke into an unsteady run, ignoring the flares of pain behind his eyes as he followed the footprints along the river bank. The grey approach of dawn gave enough light to turn the torch off and as he did so he caught movement from the corner of his eye and froze.

Dean was on his knees, wavering slightly as the water devil approached in a low crouch. As Sam watched, he saw a glint of metal along Dean's side suddenly flash and disappear into Dean's leg. At the same time as the creature leapt at his brother knocking him to the ground, Sam was sprinting towards them gun drawn in one hand and blowtorch in the other. He knew he would have to somehow get Dean clear before he could use either weapon but as he watched he saw Dean suddenly grab the creature and roll.

Dean knew in some vague way it was going to hurt like hell but he couldn't move from his knees as the water devils thoughts became so loud they almost exploded in his head over and over. Images of ripping flesh and blood, so much blood. "Hurt you, rip you, kill you both."

He felt like ice and his body and head pounded in pain. He could feel blood running across his face and down his chest – it felt like fire on his cold skin. In all the confusion and pain, that one thought came to the surface again and he desperately held on. Protect Sammy.

Save Sammy. Save Sammy. Dean slowly lifted the knife away from the side of his leg and then slowly plunged it deep into his skin. Pain. His pain. His thoughts – kill it. His breath was knocked from him as the creature pounced and he felt the teeth sink again into his shoulder. He felt its claws ripping the skin on his chest and arm. As his thoughts cleared and vision blurred, he drew the knife from his leg and with a grim determination he rolled and summoned the strength to stab the knife hilt deep into the predators' neck.

As the water devil released him and slid off his body, Dean was startled by the sound of gunshots next to him as Sam emptied the clip. He opened his eyes to a blinding glare and a warmth that almost hurt as Sam used the blowtorch until all that remained was a pile of ashes.

Dean couldn't move, he could only lie there as he watched Sam come over to him. He could only breath when he felt Sam lift him gently so he rested on Sam's legs with his head laying back against his brother. He could only close his eyes in relief when he felt Sam's hand gently brush across his forehead. He felt a surge of emotion when Sam's arms wrapped around him. He could only manage to say one word before his body broke into spasms from pain and cold.

"Over?"

Sam's voice broke "Yes Dean it's over, you're okay. It's all over now, you did it."

Tears welled in Sam's eyes, this part was over but he still had to get Dean back to the cabin. He still had to get Dean out of here. He still had to save his brother.

Sam gave Dean a few minutes to rest while he checked him over. God, he had to get Dean back to the cabin before he lost too much blood. Sam had no bandages or supplies with him and Dean was already shivering violently from the cold or from shock – probably both.

Sam placed a hand on Dean's forehead and his brother looked at him wearily. "Dean, I need to help you up and get you back to the cabin. Do you think you can stand?"

Dean answered by partially raising an arm out to Sam and nodding his head. Sam braced himself and grabbed Dean's arm, slowly pulling until his brother was on two feet. Sam then placed Dean's good arm around his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around his brother's waist. Dean's head was lowered and his breathed in short quick gasps, most of his weight resting on Sam. Sam willed himself to ignore the sharp pain in the back of his head where it had connected with the wall.

Sam half dragged, half carried Dean back along the river towards the cabin. The sun had finally risen but the air was still chilled enough to make their breath visible. The brothers didn't speak, Sam constantly watching Dean's face, hating the fact he could do nothing at the moment to take away the obvious agony that his brother was feeling. The cabin was only twenty feet away when Dean passed out, there was no warning sign just the sudden dead weight in Sam's arms. Sam readjusted Dean's weight over his shoulder, braced his knees and carried him the short distance in a fireman's lift, knowing it would aggravate the numerous injuries but having no choice.

Sam lowered Dean onto a bed, he felt his back and shoulders burning with the effort, the muscle in his injured leg screaming in protest. He sat on the bed his head spinning, trying to steady his breathing. Sam stood slowly after a minute, the warmth in the cabin restoring his body function a little and clearing his mind.

Sam stoked the fire first and then grabbed all the medical supplies and placed them on a chair next to the bed. He then placed a large tin saucepan full of water over the fire and proceeded to tear a clean sheet into strips to use as a bandage. Dean did not even stir as Sam began to remove his wet and bloodied clothes, placing them over the other chair by the fire to dry as they didn't have the luxury of clean clothes.

Once Dean was stripped down to his boxers, Sam proceeded to assess the damage. The bite wound had been gouged open and Deans' shoulder was a mess. The recent bandage Sam had placed on his head was half off and the bruising had now spread down to one eye. There were fresh claw marks on Dean's chest and down one arm and then Sam saw the bloody knife wound in his upper leg. Sam felt a chill go through him as he realised Dean had done this to himself.

"I wasn't going to leave you Dean, I wasn't going to lose you. Why couldn't you have just waited for me to help you. Why won't you let me help you?" he spoke quietly.

Sam felt deflated. Dean had bashed his head and stabbed himself with a knife 'cause he didn't think Sam could help him, save him. Maybe Dean was right, after all he let Dean get taken the first time, then let the creature attack while he was asleep and then he couldn't even keep his brother in the cabin away from the creature and it had done this. He would get Dean out of here, he had to prove to Dean he could save him, would do anything for him.

Sam mixed the hot water from the fire with some cold and began washing the blood from Dean's injuries. The warm water felt hot to Sam's still cold fingers and Dean groaned and moved as Sam bathed his shoulder. Dean's eyes opened but Sam wasn't sure if he was fully conscious.

"Hey Dean, are you with me?"

"Sam. Sam where, is it dead?"

"Yeah Dean, it's really over this time okay. Just lie still and let me clean you up."

Sam felt Dean's body tense as he tried to clean the purple poison from the fresh bites and claw marks. He tried to focus on what he was doing, tried not to take too much notice of the gasps and flinches as Dean attempted to hide the pain. He had to do this properly or Dean would get worse. "I'm sorry Dean, I'm sorry." He whispered over and over again.

Sam was taping the last bandage around Dean's upper arm. Dean's body was shaking constantly now, Sam wasn't sure if it was the pain the fever or blood loss. He would get Dean warm in a minute and try and get him to take a painkiller. Sam was lost in his thoughts and jumped slightly when Dean's hand closed around his wrist.

"Sammy it's alright, we'll work this out okay. "

Sam chose to ignore Dean's words of comfort. He didn't deserve to be comforted, didn't Dean think he could get them out. Sam stood, Deans hand slipping from his wrist, and returned with a cup of water and two tablets. The room swayed a little and was becoming blurry but Sam was too focused on Dean to notice.

"You need to take these." Sam placed a hand behind Dean and helped him sit up a little and watched as he swallowed the tablets.

"You need to rest for a bit Dean, you've lost blood and you've still got a fever. The poison should start to weaken but you're pretty banged up. Again." Sam squinted as Dean swam in and out of focus.

Dean was in a world of pain and he was still finding it hard to breath but Sam's voice was setting off alarm bells, it sounded cut off, lifeless. Dean tried to sit up, there must be something wrong – Sam must be hurt as well. Dean gasped as his body protested the movement.

"Sam what's wrong with you? Are you hurt?" Dean reached out a hand to turn Sam's face so he could see his brothers' eyes but Sam pushed his arm away forcefully enough to elicit a moan as his shoulder was jarred.

"No Dean, you're the one who's hurt. I couldn't stop you getting hurt, not that you would let me anyway. You'd rather hurt yourself than let me try and help you. What, so you'd rather die than let me save you. You're just like Dad and you'll probably die just like Dad. For nothing. For me. I hate this. I hate that you do this." Sam stood and instantly wished he hadn't as pain exploded in his head and down his neck. He was so angry he was shaking.

"Sam? I didn't mean, God Sam I'm sorry." Dean was confused. He must have done something to cause this, why was his brother suddenly so angry at him. Dean watched as Sam suddenly clutched his head as though he was having a vision. As Sam took a shaky step backwards he body turning away, Dean saw a trail of red running down Sam's neck and soaking through his shirt.

"Sam, I need you to sit down now." Dean braced himself and rolled his feet off the bed. Sam was either ignoring him or unable to comply. He guessed the latter as his brother sank to his knees, his hands grabbing at his head.

"Sammy." Dean sat clutching his shoulder. He somehow made it over to Sam and pulled his hands away from his head so he could get a better look - Sam's hands came away covered in blood. Dean tilted Sam's head up, noticing the pale skin and definitely uneven pupils. Concussion, well that explains it.

Dean got his brother to sit on the bed so he could clean Sam's head and get a look at the cut. When the hell had this happened? It needed stitches but Dean had to make do with gauze and tape. He placed a strip of sheet which Sam had conveniently ripped up earlier, over the top to secure it in place, his hands shaking so much he could barely finish the job.

Sam hadn't spoken since his outburst and Dean was glad and concerned at the same time. He couldn't talk about all that shit, not now maybe not ever but he needed to know how Sam was doing, whether he was hurt anywhere else. Dean got up and stumbled over to the first aid kit, hoping Sam hadn't given him the last of the painkillers and was relieved to still find five left in the bottle. As he made his way back to the bed, Dean saw the spatter of blood against the far wall and on the corner of the metal grate holding their firewood supplies. Shit, no wonder Sam was hurt but how?

"Sam, you need to take these." No response.

"Sam?" Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder

Sam held out a hand for the tablets, placing them in his mouth and then took the cup Dean offered, the same cup he had handed to Dean just before…just before he had said all those things. Just before his mind had self destructed.

"Sam please man, what happened? Talk to me Sammy." Dean pleaded. He could feel the painkillers taking effect, dulling his pain to a steady ache but he felt sick seeing his brother like this. There was more to it than concussion, Sam was withdrawing and wouldn't even look at him. "Sam I need you to talk to me, I need to know you're alright. I don't know what happened to you, I don't remember much except bits and pieces. Sam I need you here I can't do this without you."

"S'okay Dean, sleep now." Sam's words slurred as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow.

Dean was concerned but not surprised that Sam had lost consciousness. He knew Sam was exhausted and had somehow got him back here from…the river? Dean shook his head, he couldn't remember much except the pain and the voice in his head. He shivered, realizing he was only dressed in his boxers and looked around for his clothes. His t-shirt was a mess of blood and mud but reasonably dry and he slipped it on with some difficulty, sweating and trembling from the effort.

He went back to Sam and checked his pulse, ignoring his own raspy breaths and the sharp pain in his ribs. Sam seemed to be sleeping but was still dressed in his damp clothes. Damn you Sam, you could look after yourself a little. Dean had to sit on the edge of the bed and managed with some effort to remove his brothers' jeans, shirt, shoes and socks. The gash in Sam's leg still looked red and swollen, and seemed to cut deep into the muscle. Dean's hands still shook as he rebandaged his brother's leg but he was determined to finish, knowing Sam would protest once he was awake.

Dean was panting and drenched in sweat by the time he had finished and all he wanted to do was lie down. He covered Sam up with blankets and staggered back to his own bed where he collapsed in a heap.

TBC…